LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

Cliap.^^. Copjiiglit No. 

UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



MEANS. 



BY 



ERNST WAGNER, 




R TENNYSON NEELY CO., 

PUBLISHERS, 
NEW YORK. CHICAGO. LONDON, 

U 



2098 



Library of Conprreae 

Two Coptes Received 
JAN 5 1901 

r-j Copynght entry 

SECOND COPY 

Oeliv»red to 

ORDER DIVISION 
JAN Si. 1901 






Copyright, 1906, 

by 

ARTHUR CHESHIRE NEELY 



the 
United States 

and 
Great Britain. 



An Rights Reserved. 



To THE Spirit's Incarnation, 
MOTHER. 



" Faith is the life of God in the souV^Luther. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 



PAGB 



Means m General y 



CHAPTER II. 
Flowers. 12 

CHAPTER III. 
Light 31 

CHAPTER IV. 
Physical Beauty 40 

CHAPTER V. 
Age 50 

CHAPTER VI. 
Music. 59 

CHAPTER VII. 
Ideals 70 



FOEEWORDS. 

An Austrian princess visited her uncle, the Duke 
of Lucca, one summer, when the land was filled 
with flowers and every tree bright with foliage and 
wreathed with the tendrils of the vine. She had 
never been in Italy before, and the wonderful 
beauty seemed to her like a dream of paradise. 
She fancied that the lovely landscape was thus 
decorated for her sake and thanked her uncle 
for his wonderful welcome. But a poet standing 
by the side of the princess told her that the giver 
of the festival was the King of kings, and that 
He had made the land one bower of bloom not 
more for her than for the poorest peasant girl. If 
the superficial observer be compared to the 
princess, there may well, to the poet, be likened 
the author of "Means," who, in his neat little vol- 
ume, teaches that God adorns the world for every 
one who is capable of seeing and enjoying its 
beauty. After illustrating how God operates 
through means, the author, by using objects of 
nature as symbols of spiritual truth, makes the 
outward world to us the image of a heavenly realm. 
He sees divinity in woods and hills, and receives 
the flower as a celestial message. He leads to 
the conclusion that the unseen things of God are 
interpreted by the seen; that every object of the 



Forewords. 

natural creation when rightly regarded, is an 
avenue by which we can draw near to the Euler 
of all; and that the whole earth is aflame with 
the presence of God. The book, exhibiting meta- 
phorical language, and consisting of essays on 
"Means in General," "Flowers," "Light," "Music," 
and "Ideals," is fraught with thoughts of an up- 
lifting tendency, and will interest and strengthen 
anyone who gives it proper perusal. 

THE AUTHOR. 



VI 



MEANS. 



CHAPTER I. 

MEANS IN" GENERAL. 

God always operates through means. He used 
Christ. Christ used clay. God and Christ use 
Paraclete. These facts reveal to me the reason 
why people make failures of life. Every young 
man and woman desires to be prosperous; but if 
that desire is not accomplished by a means of grati- 
fication, the desire is not economic. 

We all want to have means sufficient at least 
to make this life comfortable for ourselves as well 
as for those about us ; and yet this desire stops with 
desire and prayer, which, without means, are as 
good as nothing, so far as the result is forthcom- 
ing. 

We often wonder why God does not send the 
blessing. Is it possible for even God to tie some- 
thing to that which does not exist ? Change youi 
prayer. Before you can receive Christ's benedic- 
tion on Mary, you must be in Mary's place. Ask 

7 



Means. 

God to aid you through an avenue, and then set 
out to accomplish something. There is but one 
benefit that a college student has in the market 
of the world over his non-university friend, and 
it rests in this: that he sees means with which to 
reach ends, and has power to utilize his untried 
strength. Every man has latent power as certainly 
as he has existence. It is the blacksmith who has 
the developed muscles, not because he desires them, 
but because he discerns, willingly or unwillingly, 
an honest means through which physical laws per- 
taining to himself can operate. Activity envelopes 
structure, and the very result may become a new 
means. Do not sit in vacant emptiness and plan, 
but rather have something tangible upon which 
God can lay his hand and thus assist you. Pov- 
erty is no excuse ; neither is lack of education, nor 
the problem of environments, if we make a proper 
use of the means accorded us. We are the fram- 
ers of our own constitutions, physical, moral and 
intellectual. 

Abraham Lincoln was poor and untutored, but 
he knew it. He was encompassed by the waters of 
bitter circumstances, bearing ships heavy with 
many burdens. These did not make him, but he 
used them to make himself the greatest, grand- 
est and best man America ever produced. He was 
the first American. He was his own instructor. 
The little knowledge which he, from time to time, 
secured was used by him, and, as a result, God 
was enabled to form a partnership with him. 
Some will say that this man came into the world 
blessed with superior parentage. It is true that 

8 



Means in General. 

his father and mother were godly and intellectual. 
Here I will grant that evolution does operate. We 
must admit that one generation is affected as 
much, yea, even more, by the seed of good than 
by that of sin. Yet I cannot see why He should 
neglect us, if the God of our fathers is just as 
truly our God. We must remember that all men 
were not born for the same purpose. Every sphere 
and walk of life must have its constellation of 
men, and every constellation will have its star 
of first magnitude. Some one says: "A great 
man is simply the greatest of his kind." Thus 
it was in the sixteenth century. Luther was the 
star. Was there ever a man born under circum- 
stances more adverse to greatness than he? Yet 
in the same breath I ask — Was there ever a man, 
except Moses and Paul, who rose to such dizzy 
heights in the eyes of both God and man? He 
laid hold of justification by faith and it became 
his means. But, truer still, he did not simply 
know the means, but, in the use thereof, he bent 
every muscle and every nerve ; and, if I dare so 
speak, every mental fibre was drawn in his efforts 
until it was placed in a sensitive attitude for the 
musician's fingers. 

You may have an ideal which, by the way, is 
only a seen, yet unseen, a known, yet unknown, 
possibility ; one for which men are willing to sac- 
rifice body, mind, and soul. If you have such an 
ideal set about to realize it. God will bless you, 
for then he will have something for which to bless 
you; men will praise you because there will be 
a connection between you and your fellows. Our 
9 



Means. 

Telations with God are not vastly different from 
those with our brother. I never receive praise un- 
less I form an avenue through which the compli- 
ment of men can travel to me. Likewise, I never 
receive grace from God unless I strew some path 
with the palms of mortal endeavor, and thereby 
enable Him to have a triumphant march into the 
new heart, new mind, and new man; yea, even 
into the New Jerusalem of my soul. 

I have enclosed in a pot all the nourishment 
necessary for a plant, but, if the plant is kept in 
another pot, of what value is the soil? We must 
bring the two together. Some may ask: "Is it 
absolutely necessary for an infinite Christ to de- 
mand means? It is inconceivable, although our 
lack of perception does not render it improbable 
for Christ to operate without means. If there are 
limitations they have been placed by God. It is 
not my fault that Adam sinned; but it is a fault 
of mine if I am starving and will not accept of- 
fered food. The discord often lies in this : We de- 
spise the station in which our native talents have 
placed us, and we are rather unwilling to start 
from nature's post on our ascending march. It is 
possible for this to be remedied. By laying one 
stone upon another, we get a beautiful monument 
of kingly splendor, whereas the poor stones, as 
they lie in the quarry in which nature placed them, 
are unpolished and unadmired. Again you say: 
"In this case a mind operated." So, in the stone 
of thought with which we are to build, a mind 
operated. Simply let it continue to act, but let us 
press one step more: Did the stones show any 

to 



Means in General. 

means to the mind? Here again the answer is in 
the affirmative. In the stones lay the proper 
stuff. Countless millions of minds have con- 
tributed to the splendor of your mind, and you 
know it not, so nicely and scientifically has the 
work been done. Become responsive. If you have 
not the means to secure the means with which to 
become the means, then I say : tap your left arm, 
draw from it, if you be an artist, blood ; paint your 
passion and this will be the means by means of 
which God will, because he can, abundantly bless 
you. 



If 



Means. 



CHAPTER 11. 

FLOWERS. 

Flowees are constant reminders of God's love. 
Like Him, they have no respect of persons, but 
speak to all alike in the voice of perfume. He 
who has lost the sense of smell is bereft of one of 
the most charming means of communicating with 
God through Nature. Where may one journey 
and not find flowers of some description? How 
often do we thoughtlessly trample beneath our 
feet these unpretentious messengers ! Did it ever 
occur to you that, by crushing a single weed, per- 
haps you had blotted out of existence a flower and 
a means which never before existed ! A flower in 
that fertilization might here have produced a seed 
of new beauty for flower bearing, and a means 
whereby that especial flower to be would have been 
of such a hue as to have attracted the eye and 
nostril of the most hardened sinner who might 
have passed that way. 

We are strange and thoughtless creatures, thus 
to destroy God's handiwork without the least feel- 
ing or concern. 

Then, too, the very flower of anticipation might 
have been the means of converting the soul of the 
very one who crushed it. Every plant's ambition, 
12 



Flowers. 

in so far as it is ambitious, is to present to the 
world its sonl, for the flower is the soul of the 
plant. How beautiful must some of our souls be ! 
Cultivation of the plant body enables that body to 
produce a finer, purer, more perfect soul, than if 
the body had been neglected. How long it seems 
to take for some plants to exhibit their souls, while 
again others repeat the miracle many times, just 
in order to persuade us. Yet, even among the 
flora of the world we can find our Judas and his 
associates in living unpretentious lives. The hum- 
ming bird will not dip for nectar into the cup held 
by the fair white or pink face and hands of the 
oleander. This lightning messenger knows too 
well that the money cup is not pure, but contains 
alloy. We are pleased to cultivate some plants 
for their physical beauty alone, their grace and 
symmetry seem to delight us, and we sacrifice the 
soul in this case for the body. Through the 
growth of His plants we have a suggestion of 
God's desire to perfect the soul at the expense of 
the material portion. 

There is a golden mean to be worked out among 
men which is seen in the "Lily of the Valley" 
which was plucked for you and for me on Calvary. 
For two years the writer has been nourishing a 
seedling, thinking that perhaps time would tell 
us something of its meaning. We cannot, by any 
known means, determine the color of the flower 
until that flower reveals itself. "We are known by 
our fruits" is literally true. The conditions fa- 
vorable to the perfecting of one plant-body and 
soul will not bring perfection to another. The 

J3 



Means. 

palm, the fern and the delicate moss do not en- 
joy the strong drinks of light so relished by the 
sunflower; neither do vines, as the wisteria and 
trumpet-vine, ask for the privilege of decorat- 
ing the same part of the home as does the moun- 
tain fringe. In this we can find a parallel to the 
development of different individuals, morally, 
spiritually, and intellectually. Some men need to 
be supported, as do the climbers; while others 
flourish in the strength they derive from the ordi- 
nary sources around and about them. We need 
not all be carried on flowery beds of ease, as ferns 
and mosses, for we can be, if no more, the moss- 
covered rocks for the weary travelers. Purpose 
crowns every work from the Master's hand. We 
are not wont to believe this, as we travel over this 
land and notice the hundreds of weeds that seem 
to live as tramps and paupers; but, when we con- 
sider that even all such life came by the direct 
laws of God, we dare not condemn. 

Let the young man or woman who to-day com- 
plains that the world is crowded, that the pro- 
fessions are full, and the like, remember that not 
every disease has found its conqueror; and that in 
some of the lovely weeds may lurk the medicinal 
properties for the healing of those particular ail- 
ments. Whose right is it to discern it? Who 
could aid humanity better than such an one? 
Upon this there is no monopoly. 

Then while there is freedom let us use it, lest it 
slip away and we know it not. One way of detect- 
ing the medicinal properties is to notice at what 
flowers the humming bird stops for nectar: the 

14 



Flowers. 

ones passed by will generally be of such a charac- 
ter. Nature is continually making feasts for the 
insects and birds of the world. At these feasts, 
as at those made by man, we can detect the cul- 
tured as well as the unrefined of society. Decora- 
tions are perfect ; every space is filled with some- 
thing for the feast of love. 

The skies add the canopy, the large, mirror-like 
lakes and rivers reflect it and endeavor to make 
two scenes out of one. The gentle zephyrs serve as 
messengers, because Nature does not send out in- 
vitations ; she only creates, and, if in that which 
she creates directly there is not the component or 
complement part to Nature's creation, then she 
deems such a one as unworthy of being her guest. 
Her menu, however, is not engraven m black and 
white, but is colored with all the tints of the 
rainbow, while the listed viands are made known 
by wafts of perfume. Nature does not withhold 
her delights for any special season or place. She 
has so adapted her every plan, to the welfare and 
concern of her heavenly children that, go where 
we will, we can find some of her creation. 

This earth is one vast flower garden, and in it 
are those plants, such as the cacti, capable of en- 
during the blistering rays of the sun. Look again 
in the more shaded nooks, governed by trickling 
waters and diffused light. You will find the deli- 
cate creations as of some fairy's hand. Look again 
into the cave, where darkness is the one-eyed giant, 
and you will find the lens plant, capable of con- 
verging for its own use the few rays of light that 
unfortunately enter there. Should we be cast into 
15 



Means. 

a watery grave our casket of ripples and pearly- 
shells would be covered with the most gorgeous 
of Nature^s creations — the seaweeds of every hue 
and tint. Again, let some eagle carry us off and 
leave us to die on the snow-capped Alps, and we 
will not be without our flowers; for even there 
beneath the snow we could find the little feather- 
covered flower of the Alps. Ah ! we may even be 
sailing in an airship, until finally we are brought 
where gravity is neutralized between two opposing 
forces, and we are left suspended. In this condition 
could we not spend the remainder of our time look- 
ing for orchids that might be attached to our ship 
— air plants ? Ah ! God has not left us comfortless. 
We have the beauties of creation everywhere 
around us. Let us see to it that we use them in 
the way that will best fit us for the heaven above, 
which will be like one mighty flower, of which we 
vvill be the petals. Would it not be awful to find 
on that day of awarding prizes that the petal which 
your life was to form would be missing? Let us 
make heaven grand. It lies with us. We can be petals 
of such extreme whiteness and perfection in Christ 
that He will consider us worthy of our own high 
calling. Have you ever wondered at the meaning 
of the flower? Look at its extreme beauty. 
Christ took delight in drawing his hearers' eyes 
and minds to the lilies of the field, and was pleased 
to say that Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed 
like one of these. What wonderful artists the 
birds and insects are ! They dip for food, but 
even in so doing, they deposit a grain of pollen 
that will perchance be the means of fertilizing a 
i6 



Flowers. 

seed that will, in time, produce a plant, the flower 
of which will be the first of its kind. Man caught 
the idea of cross fertilization from the birds and 
insects. Most seeds are fertilized in this way. 
This is one of the most vital of Nature's laws. 
After one has seen the florist walking along the 
walks of his conservatories with a magnifying 
glass, taking the pollen from this plant and de- 
positing it on the pistil of another, we can imagine 
something of the infiniteness of God. 

Of late years some of the leading magazines 
of the country have been publishing pictures of 
homes surrounded by flowers and flower gardens. 
The originator of the idea should be praised and 
adored by every lover of God. This very thought 
will be the means of teaching others to beautify 
their homes in a similar manner, and this again 
will be the means of converting the houses in 
which the Ego lives into a more beautiful mansion. 
Life is not real until we love Nature and her 
operations, and have, at our very feet, many of her 
choicest gems. A brown stone front that costs 
thousands, and defies storm and tide, if it be 
unadorned by the graces of Nature, is not half so 
rich and beautiful as the old gate covered with its 
hop vine which directs the weary traveler to a 
pump that once had coursing in its cells living sap 
— but now living waters from the deep. If, then, 
the God of Nature is our God, surely we have the 
right to feel proud. 

Nature seems to delight in surrounding us with 
flowers. She not only places them beneath our 
feet for a carpet, but she arranges them in length, 



Means. 

from one inch, by successive steps, until they not 
only kiss our very lips, but also from the trees 
above hang in festoons, as if beckoning us to look 
skyward. Have you ever unwrapped the meaning 
involved in the folds of a morning-glory bud? 
Notice how nicely and mathematically they are 
rolled. Open one twelve hours before time for 
it to expand — and in its expansion present to the 
world the attitude of one exhorting — and you will 
be surprised at the difficulty you will experience. 
Thus it is with the bud of our lives — if we under- 
take to open it by any other means than the laws 
set in operation by God, we will have nothing but 
torn petals and a debauched specimen of trifled 
ignorance. Let us wait patiently and in due time 
we shall reap, if we faint not. When do flowers 
not add charm? Who cannot see in their de- 
velopment a parallel to our own? Let us take 
the life of Dante and read it in the language of 
flowers. 

When a seed is sown no one knows the exact 
color of the flower that is to spring from it. 

The early history of every plant^s existence is 
wearisome. If we should watch the clock-work de- 
velopment we would find nothing of special in- 
terest. Our faith incites us to feed, water, prune 
and care for the little seedling, believing that 
"Future" will have revealed to her a bright star 
— a star of first magnitude. 

There is an old saying, "April showers bring 
forth May flowers.'' The condition of Italy must 
account for in part the plant that was born about 
the middle of May, 1265. At that time there 

$8 



Flowers. 

sprang from Italian soil a plant whose wondrous 
life and influence was a secret. 

This human plant sprang from seed that was 
not expected to produce anything of special bene- 
fit to mankind, either as a healing power, or as 
a solace for man in his sad hour. Although this 
plant sprang from a long-lived race, yet that which 
this whole genius produced was nothing as com- 
pared to its present side shoot. It is believed by 
many superstitious people of the present day that 
seed sown during this time of the year, or during 
this phase of the moon, or this hour of the day, 
will bring forth more and better plants than other- 
wise. It seems, from what history tells us, that 
this superstitious idea is not of modem creation, 
but that its life history extends far back into the 
mysterious ages. The strange-thinking, stranger- 
believing people of the Middle Ages not only ap- 
plied this doctrine to the plant kingdom, but even 
extended it to the human family. Thus we find 
that the human plant born during the middle of 
May, 1265, was under the sign of the twins, the 
glorious stars pregnant with virtue, and to which 
he owes his genius. 

Astrologers considered this constellation as fa- 
vorable to literature and science, and Buenitto 
Latini, his instructor, tells him in the "Inferno" 
that if he follows its guidance he cannot fail to 
reach the harbor of fame. We know very little 
of Dante^s boyhood. We know very little of this 
plant's early development. After awhile, however, 
this plant, as all plants that anticipate expanding 
and giving to the world the glorious possibilities 

19 



Means. 

within, forced its roots far down into the rocky 
and difficult beds of philosophy, theology, as- 
trology, arithmetic, and geometry. Eeading his- 
tory, basking in the sunlight of many curious 
books, and watching and sweating in his studies, 
he acquired the science which was to adorn and ex- 
plain his verse. He obtained a firm footing, like 
that of the sturdy oak, so that when the howling 
storms of this tempestuous life came upon him he 
was rooted and grounded in a firm foundation, 
and might well stand and laugh at the poor, miser- 
able plants with roots upon the surface. He 
brought forth fruit. 

In order that any plant may thrive, no matter 
how strong at first, it must have careful attend- 
ance. Either the attendant must be a careful hu- 
man or a more careful Nature. Well, this plant 
which we will call Dante — for every man who 
thinks he knows anything about science, and espe- 
cially higher botany, knows that very early in life 
he must begin to tack on names — this plant, 
Dante, had careful, earnest teachers. If the plant 
was inclined to twine, they supported it; if in- 
clined to root deeply, they saturated with drops of 
wisdom the soil. Music was one of the early char- 
acteristics of this plant. I do not know whether I 
can find a resemblance here to some other plant, 
or not, but if botanical plants do not exhibit any 
love for music, they enrich it by their presence. 
Dante never wrote sweeter or more melodious lines 
than those in which he expresses the wish that he 
might '^e wafted by enchantments over the sea, 
wheresoever they might list." 

20 



Flowers. 

We have now arrived at the period of transplant- 
ing. Every successful plant grower always trans- 
plants his seedlings several times. The very 
young slip or seedling grows in sand. Dante thus 
first grew in studies of early youth, but now he is 
given the more sturdy soil. He is beginning to be 
buffeted. Take two young plants equally strong 
and equally well developed, and place them under 
different conditions, under different circumstances, 
different environments, and note the results. One 
grows stronger, the other weaker. 

Dante, like Milton, v/as trained by the strictest 
academical education, yet Dante lived under a 
warmer sun and brighter sky than Milton; and 
found in the rich variety and gayety of his early 
life a defence against the withering misfortune 
of his later years. We cannot predict just what 
will take place in regard to a plant. The sturdi- 
ness thereof is not determined by its height under 
a clear sk}^, but only when the howling tempests of 
politics, if you please, assail it. Our plant, after 
his transplanting, grows rapidly. Every plant has 
assimilative organs. So in this one, Dante, we 
find not onlv assimilative processes at work, but a 
concentration of the spirit of the Middle Ages. 
He is, in his very concentrating, preparing to ex- 
pand and send forth into the world that for which 
almost every plant is raised; namely, its flowers, 
then its fruit. 

The true and lasting fruit of mankind is the 

fruit of the head. A plant not only impoverishes 

the soil upon which it grows, but it will, if left, 

again fertilize it. So Dante fertilized the Italian 

2J 



Means. 

linguistic soil. He made it richer and better, and 
therefore more able to bring forth well developed 
plants. 

As we look at certain flowers and drink in their 
meaning, we are charmed. Our aesthetic natures 
are elevated, our standard of joy is raised. A 
home may be unknown, but when it contains some 
marvel, either in the plant or man family, it be- 
comes immortalized. "Dante, like Virgil, could 
immortalize, by a simple expression, a person, a 
place, or a phase of Nature." This power, a gift 
from God, cannot be acquired. 

There is, however, a more striking similarity — 
to paint word pictures between Dante and Milton. 
The flower upon this plant is now being revealed. 
The bud was beautiful; no doubt the expanding 
flower will be superb. Behold, it opens, it dazzles 
the eye, and, I dare add, it continues for many, 
many years to blind the j)eople so that they do not 
see its beauty until it begins to wane. They only 
realized its extreme significance when they beheld 
the fruit. Dante's "Inferno" could not have been 
the fruit of a plant whose roots were fibrous. It 
took a plant with mighty fabric to breathe into ex- 
istence such fruit. Recall to your mind its vivid 
color-descriptions and its symmetry. Think of 
the strain upon the fiber of the plant. Imagine 
the fertilizing power. Conceive of his imagina- 
tive power. Yet, Dante's was not without founda- 
tion, and it is an easy matter to see where he ob- 
tained much of his material. It is a biological 
fact that more plants or rather more flowers are 
fertilized by cross than by self fertilization. 
22 



Flowers. 

So we can pick out certain colors, verses that 
must have come from that other flower which we 
will call Virgil. Then in Canto thirty-third we 
find these words : 

"There very weeping suffers not to weep. 
For at their eyes, grief, seeking passage, finds 
Impeachment, and rolling inward turns 
For increase of sharp anguish; the first tears 
Hang clustered, and like crystal vigors show. 
Under the socket brimming all the cup/' 

It is well known that people who are ofttimes 
the most grieved cannot shed tears. Did not 
Dante know this ? Birds, insects, winds, man and 
beasts are agents in carrying the pollen grains 
from one flower to another. Did not these help to 
fertilize the flower nnder consideration? But, 
alas, even his old age, which was spent in poverty, 
finds its parallel. For do not most plants, after 
they have produced their fruit, sink and die un- 
noticed ? 

This particular human plant died Sept. 14, 
1321, but, like every flower that brings forth its 
seed, Dante died to live. Not only more glori- 
ously in this present world, but I hope also in that 
New Jerusalem, where he will be brought to even 
greater perfection. The fallen petals from this 
flower repose in Ravenna, and they seem as precious 
as the rose leaves in our most costly rose jars. 
The seed from a certain plant lives for a short 
time, only as distinct types of that flower; so 
23 



Means. 

Dante's direct line of descent became extinct in 
1509. 

We have among the flora of the world a lens 
plant; like it, we may liken Dante nnto a mighty- 
lens. "For whatever there was of piety, of phi- 
losophy, of poetry, of love of Nature, and of love 
of knowledge in those days was drawn to a focus 
in his writings." In the light of onr comparison, 
then, who dare say that we are not the children 
of God and of Nature ! 

We are not only intimately but vitally bound up 
with nature. Her laws and the principles gov- 
erning her operations rule and control us. Love 
Nature and you will love her Maker. Emerson 
in speaking of "gifts" says: "FloAvers are always 
fit presents because they remind us that a ray of 
beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." 

Have we not all seen this exemplified in the 
case of the sick ! Have not flowers — a bouquet of 
roses or carnations perchance — spoken directly to 
you of a Father's love ? These pure and untainted 
daughters of Nature are worthy of preaching be- 
cause so pure, and they become doubly significant 
when accompanied by a sainted person or a prayer. 
Alas, how often do we tarry and only send our 
messengers to speak to a cold, lifeless body! 
Would it not be better to lay the roses and lilies in 
compliment upon the caskets in which our friends 
now live, rather than upon the coflins in which 
their bodies shall lie when the crape hangs upon 
the door ! It has pleased some one to translate for 
us the language of flowers and their bodies. 

How surely he knew that vital subject who 
24 



Flowers. 

called the ivy friendship. Surely it takes an 
Emerson or a Black thus to speak. 

Almost all of our flowers have thus been trans- 
lated into our Anglo-Saxon tongue. 

I sometimes wonder if flowers do not converse 
one with another. They inter-marry, why not 
speak ? "A Snap-Shot of Spring," written by the 
author, can best speak at this point. 

Springtime is springtime because all animated 
matter seems to spring. After the glossy patent 
leather shoes of the streams and lakes have cracked 
and no longer add beauty to the snug and artistic 
costume of Mr. Winter, when the myriad crystals 
of dazzling brilliants composing his costume have 
been picked by the nimble fingers of the sunbeams, 
and his icicle-filled canes have met the lips of the 
joyous school boys, he takes his hat of St. Patrick's 
green and waves adieu, leaving only the aroma of 
his pines for the breezes to waft on as a menu to 
the world of sense. The menu is understood ; and 
almost simultaneously the eye sees the advanced 
guards, with their lanterns of gold. Thus the 
dandelion has fulfilled its mission, until it forms 
a white silk parasol for the vigilant ant. Every 
atom which contains life is at work. Even the 
vibrating air brings to us the melody from the red 
bird perched in yonder tree. How patiently he 
sits, trying to coax the blossoms from their downy 
bud chamxbers. 

Aroused, listening, yawning, the waxy curtain 
is drawn aside and, with all the beauty and pomp 
of a bride, the apple blossoms appear, blushing 
and reflecting in their cheeks of angelic white- 

35 



Means. 

ness the color of their serenader. Looking be- 
neath, one sees a carpet of delicate green, covered 
here and there with a rug of spring beauties. Oh ! 
where is the harpist with skill as great as the 
snowy pebbles which give forth the music on this 
joyous occasion? Closer observation reveals the 
fact that all Nature, from 

The grasshopper to the hopping toad 
That sits m yonder dusty road, 
Down to the insects of a thousand colors — 
Painted hy some unknown artist or other 

gives step. 

At our feet we notice the tiny seedling, with 
its leaf -like hands extended, as if in prayer, thank- 
ing God for the message embodied in every rain- 
drop. What Muse has sung to us of the beauty 
and meaning encased and liquidized in every rain- 
drop? Is it that God liquidizes his messages for 
the seeds asleep in the ground? Add to all this 
the linguistic school of the flowers conversing 
with each other in the voice of perfume, teaching 
each other their individual tongues by means of 
the butterfly and lightning-winged humming bird 
which dips into every nectary of nectarian knowl- 
edge, and you will have springtime fairly begun. 

Flowers not only remind us that spring has 
come, but they speak to us of the arrival of many 
seasons. Divine service has always a greater in- 
fluence when we are listening to song and prayer, 
while our eyes are feasting upon a splendidly dec- 
orated cathedral. The revealed word is but one 

26 



Flowers. 

volume of God's revelation to us. Nature is 
His picture book. We are children in the 
love of Christ; and since the child, in intellect, 
can be taught by means of objects, so we in the 
realm of the Spirit of Power can best be educated 
by having combined pressure of both volumes 
at the same time. Again, what would weddings be 
without flowers? Are they not the truest brides 
on earth? A woman without flowers, at this re- 
ception or that ball, is considered less refined 
than she who appears with them. You may call 
it custom. Well — more than that — it is a noble 
custom. It gives me great pleasure to see the 
maid as well as the older lady of fashion wear 
flowers in their bonnets. Indeed these precious 
souls seem to have felt that the dainty fingers 
of fair women would pluck them, and so they grew 
that they might wilt, and, therefore be useless for 
such decorations. I would that the birds, the 
jewels of the air, had been as thoughtful. 

A bouquet of dainty flowers and vines will 
make any dinner more palatable. Have you 
watched your feelings when some one pulls a 
weed from among your flowers, as the same person 
destroys the plant or simply the flower growing 
next? What causes the difference in feeling? 
Do we let this same attitude creep over us when 
the mortals round us are snatched away by some 
unseen hand? Because we cannot see beauty is 
it a sign that it is absent ? Perhaps it is our pre- 
rogative, since it was given us to have command 
over all things beneath us. 

With .what concern we labor among our plants, 

27 



Means. 

endeavoring to bring them to physical beauty, 
while perhaps our neighbor, as to mortals, or even 
a brother or sister, is dying from the effects of 
sin. When will man learn to know God aright? 
He gave ns both, but one is not to have the ascen- 
dency over the other ; and especially not the lesser 
of the two kingdoms. It means much to lose a 
valuable plant; but it means the loss of heaven 
to lose one's soul. What color is the lily to which 
Christ referred? Many people will say, "white," 
but consult H. B. Green and he will say "red." 
This is but another illustration of the way in 
which we are wont to form judgments — circumstan- 
tial evidence seems to rule the court'sdecision. Not 
only flowers, but men and women, have suffered 
from lack of knowledge in passing judgment. 
This gives us some idea of the scope of our thoughts 
and of the degree of firmness with which they hold 
and rule us. It is difficult for us to judge cor- 
rectly. Some will prefer one plant, and some an- 
other, because the first bears a single large flower, 
while the second gives birth to dozens of dainty 
drops of dew. In the same way and for similar 
reasons, we are anxious to shower praises upon some 
one because he gives thousands of dollars for the 
building of a home for the aged or poor, while the 
one who, with less, but a heart full of Christian 
love, gives, as it were, her mite, which falls as the 
dew upon the parched lips of some fevered pa- 
tient, passes unnoticed. Oh, that we had the 
lens-like mind of God! 

Again, notice how a vine will reach forth its 
tendrils in search of something to which it can 
23 



Flowers. 

cling; and observe its choice as to what that sup- 
port shall be. 

The sensitive plant seems to have nerves, and, 
indeed, we dare not deny it. The pitcher plant, 
so choice in the selection of its food, is like unto 
the Venus fly trap — both are carnivorous. All 
this simply teaches us that the depths and mean- 
ing of nature have not yet reached solution. The 
best of mathematicians can give us reothing more 
exact in construction of squares, triangles and 
hexagons, etc. — than can Nature. Ask yourself. 
To what is the color due ? and then read concern- 
ing the various theories. Note how the blood, or 
perhaps you say sap, since the corpuscles are all 
white, courses through root, stem, and leaves. 
Watch with what care the tree, by the inherent 
law of its nature, seeks to heal over a wound in- 
flicted on its body. Do not all these considera- 
tions bring a multitude of questions to the very 
tip of your tongue? Search for the perfume 
gland. It is not always on the petal, but some- 
times in the corolla-like throat or even on the stem 
supporting it, as if to conceal from the impudent 
botanist the secret spring. He who does not see 
God in Nature is either insane or heartless. 

An artist may dip her brush and paint, but the 
lifelike touch is missing. The dew fails to ac- 
cumulate on the petals of her creation. The seed 
never ripens, and the perfume is never scattered 
by the invisible atomizer. 

Nevertheless, let the artist labor on. It broad- 
ens her soul just to know that she cannot. Let 
the sculptor continue to mold or rather to unfold, 

29 



Means. 

for it will likewise reveal to him the need of a 
Master teacher. The rainbow is the palette from 
which Nature obtains her colors. If this be true 
how much more true is it that Christ is the palette 
from which you and I are to secure those colors; 
and to be taught the use of the same, to paint our 
truest and best likeness in Him. 



30 



Light. 



CHAPTER III. 

LIGHT. 

Light has had its embryo state as well as man. 
The primitive stage of light, however, was be- 
cause of the condition of men. Is it possible 
that the full splendor of artificial light was taken 
from man^s store of knowledge at the sinning of 
our parents, when concern for the future crept 
again into the hearts of the children of men? 
Is it possible that a means of lighting that future 
spontaneously crept into existence? 

Perhaps the flint, tallow-dip, oil lamp, gas 
and electric light stages of light only represent 
to us our loss of time and opportunity. We might 
have had the last at first had not our first parents 
snuffed the flame given them by divine right. 

As it is we can glance back and note the degree 
of light as it existed in men during the ages. 
Then, too, we can easily detect the parallel ad- 
vance made by man as he was accompanied and 
tutored by light. Thus light has come to be 
a Means. How strange is the contrast between 
light and darkness! We are supposed to have 
lived in the light during the past, but as we now 
recall the past it was darkness. 

The glory of the present hour .will be the 
3S 



Means. 

shadow of the future light, just as the light of 
yesterday has become the shadow of the brilliancy 
of to-day. With light comes life and opportunity. 
How could our ancestors have lived as we do, we 
having a brighter light? It is not strange, when 
we are reminded of the part played by light, that 
the people of old were wont to worship the sun. 
Surely they felt within themselves a desire for 
light and their greatest source was that of Helios. 
To us the sun is simply the orb of light, around 
which our earth not only revolves, but upon 
which its very existence depends. If, then, the 
men of primitive intellect worshipped the only 
source of terrestrial life, surely since they have 
bequeathed to us so great a blessing, we should 
remember the Golden Eule, and will to our pos- 
terity a well-defined knowledge of the true source 
of spiritual light and life. How silently and yet 
how completely do the little messengers of light 
drive the fairies of darkness into places of safety 
and retreat! We do not hear the tread of feet 
or the shouts of command, but only the lookers- 
on remind us that the conflict is at hand. Pres- 
ently we find the dark-robed fairies of the night 
crouched under bushes, behind pictures, in cellars 
and caves. There they are pleased to wait until 
the captain of the Sun's hosts reclines for a nap. 
The Captain of our Salvation never reclines, but, 
nevertheless, the fairies of darkness in our hearts 
come forth and sometimes endeavor to conquer the 
greater power. The latter conflict is not without 
strife. The war between the forces with which 
men are so closely connected is much more vital 
32 



Light. 

and significant than the mere force of plant life. 
We have all seen the vegetable as it commenced to 
grow in the dark. The bulb or tuber has within 
itself all the elements of growth; the moisture, 
heat and light are but aids. Yet how true are 
those aids. Man at one time had lurking within 
himself all the conditions of spiritual growth, 
but they were lost and had to be regained. The 
plant that grows in the dark is etiolated, yet it 
grows. Place this plant in the sunlight and watch 
the transformation. See how the chlorophyl 
granules are manufactured and distributed 
throughout the plant. The stomata and water 
pores now function perfectly and we are pleased 
to style the vegetating plant healthy. Thus it 
was the light that caused health. Every plant 
contains within itself light, but the light is its 
life and can only be used to collect more light, 
consequently more life. A plant, as well as our 
bodies, is condensed light. Our bodies are simply 
plants cultivated for their fruit, the spirit. The 
flower is the soul of the plant. Let us see. The 
plant grov/s by an inherent law, but that law 
demands light, among other things. If the plant 
die touch it with light, and it becomes light, 
save the small amount of glue and nails with 
which the light was held. We feed upon the vege- 
table, animal and mineral kingdoms, all of which 
are the products of light. Thus v/e can be re- 
duced to a condensed mass of light. 

Light -can be held; all that we lack is that 
substance which can v/ithstand the heat. 

Heat is not only characteristic of the light of 
33 



Means. 

the sun, but we can easily detect the glow in the 
man lighted by the Christ Man. Take one who 
is cold and indifferent toward Christianity, who 
displays no activity in the realm of saints. Touch 
such an one with a coal from the altar of heaven, 
and you will find that in him are the oil and the 
wick of the flame of love. 

To show the warmth of the flame, let us take 
a glance at the life of George Muller, of Bristol. 
Perhaps we would better look at the George 
Miiller of Heimersleben, if we would see him be- 
fore the wick was light. How cold, and indif- 
ferent — yea, even wicked and despisable he was, 
but after the Wagner ipvayer meeting he was 
changed to a man in whom the flame began to 
make heat. Heat causes expansion — because, as 
we have said, it is condensed light. So when the 
heat from the Christian flame began to play in 
him, he, too, began to expand, because he could not 
prevent it. There is no substance which can with- 
stand or contain the heat from Christ. Here is 
the difference. George Miiller began at once to 
expand, and with that expansion came light, so 
that to-day, though the original flame has died, 
there remain a multitude of flames bearing light 
and heat in every part of the world. The two 
thousand for whom he cared are the living lights 
of to-day. They are the Means. Then, too, his 
life story, written by Dr. Pierson, is another light 
placed upon a hill. I would rather, yea, a thou- 
sand times rather, have my own immortal flame 
extinguished by the very darkness of hell than to 
have it known at the mercy seat of God that the 
34 



Light. 

waves of sin generated by me caused another flame 
to flicker. Darkness, which is negative, is com- 
parable to sadness. Although darkness brought our 
woe into existence, we can use it just as the Mas- 
ter uses sadness, to ripen those fruits which are 
not mellowed by the sun and its companion cheer- 
fulness. 

We rest during the dark hours of the night ; we 
build up, or rather we are built up by the very 
forces which darkness calls into action — once to 
deteriorate, again to elevate. This is proof posi- 
tive that sin is sin's vital enemy. God separated 
the light from the dark. He made each for a spe- 
cial purpose, and they must so be used by us. 
Darkness contains some light. Since the sun first 
lighted the earth there has never been total dark- 
ness. Light is light, but there are degrees of in- 
tensity. The intense light of the sun is for a 
purpose, and likewise the filtered light of the 
forest. Oaks cannot grow to perfection in caves, 
neither can ferns and mosses reach their ideal in 
the burning heat of unmolested sun rays. It is 
a peculiar fact, but nevertheless true, that the light 
of Christ is often too powerful for the young and 
tender shoot. A young man can be raised in a 
Christian home and yet not be a Christian, but 
let such an one come under an influence less in- 
tense, and he wall in most instances begin to grow, 
until finally he is able to bask in the full splendor 
of a healthy Christian influence. Such an one is 
but a fern that must be permitted to sleep in the 
sifted light, as it gently falls through the leaves 
of trees. He must recline on moss-covered couches 

35 



Means. 

■until he gains strength enough to enter the fiery 
furnace and be untouched. All birds were not 
made to soar in the direct path of the heavenly 
diamond. Their eyes cannot stand the glitter. 

The eagle seems to defy the bold^ audacious look 
of old Helios, while the delicate humming bird 
darts here and there as if to flee from his pene- 
trating gaze. It is not always he who seems even 
to revel in the splendor and sublimity of Christian 
loveliness that is clothed with the brightest plum- 
age of Christ-like perfection, and beauty; for 
very often do we find the dazzling colors of fine 
art, and the tints and hues of the dawn in the 
garment of some poor unknown Christian mother 
alone with her God and His Word. God made 
each one of us with an organ of sight, adapted 
to the various degrees of light and to the pov/er of 
discrimination. We look at yonder flower garden 
and feast our poor souls by means of the avenue of 
sight. The eye is the most delicate, most sen- 
sitive, part of the human structure. Why did God 
in His all-perfect vision see fit to so equip us? 
Surely there was a purpose. 

Not only are human eyes sensitive to the various 
colors, but even those of the birds and insects; 
but if we, like the fish in caves, do not use our 
eyes, they will in time become negative. How 
awful it seems to us, as we look at another whose 
eyes are closed to the beauties of this world! 
Think of those great historic souls — eyeless — yet 
they lived, not only unto their own day and gen- 
eration, but also for the generations to come. If, 
then, Sadness touches our hearts with her trem- 
36 



Flowers. 

We have now arrived at the period of transplant- 
ing. Every successful plant grower always trans- 
plants his seedlings several times. The very 
young slip or seedling grows in sand. Dante thus 
first grew in studies of early youth, but now he is 
given the more sturdy soil. He is beginning to be 
buffeted. Take two young plants equally strong 
and equally well developed, and place them under 
different conditions, under different circumstances, 
different environments, and note the results. One 
grows stronger, the other weaker. 

Dante, like Milton, was trained by the strictest 
academical education, yet Dante lived under a 
warmer sun and brighter sky than Milton; and 
found in the rich variety and gayety of his early 
life a defence against the withering misfortune 
of his later years. We cannot predict just what 
will take place in regard to a plant. The sturdi- 
ness thereof is not determined by its height under 
a clear sky, but only when the howling tempests of 
politics, if you please, assail it. Our plant, after 
his transplanting, grows rapidly. Every plant has 
assimilative organs. vSo in this one, Dante, we 
find not onlv assimilative processes at work, but a 
concentration of the spirit of the Middle Ages. 
He is, in his very concentrating, preparing to ex- 
pand and send forth into the world that for which 
almost every plant is raised; namely, its flowers, 
then its fruit. 

The true and lasting fruit of mankind is the 

fruit of the head. A plant not only impoverishes 

the soil upon which it grows, but it will, if left, 

again fertilize it. So Dante fertilized the Italian 

2i 



Means. 

linguistic soil. He made it richer and better, and 
therefore more able to bring forth well developed 
plants. 

As we look at certain flowers and drink in their 
meaning, we are charmed. Our aesthetic natures 
are elevated, our standard of joy is raised. A 
home may be unknown, but when it contains some 
marvel, either in the plant or man family, it be- 
comes immortalized. "Dante, like Virgil, could 
immortalize, by a simple expression, a person, a 
place, or a phase of Nature.'' This power, a gift 
from God, cannot be acquired. 

There is, however, a more striking similarity — 
to paint word pictures between Dante and Milton. 
The flower upon this plant is now being revealed. 
The bud was beautiful; no doubt the expanding 
flower Vvdll be superb. Behold, it opens, it dazzles 
the eye, and, I dare add, it continues for many, 
many years to blind the people so that they do not 
see its beauty until it begins to wane. They only 
realized its extreme significance v/hen they beheld 
the fruit. Dante's "Inferno" could not have been 
the fruit of a plant whose roots were fibrous. It 
took a plant with mighty fabric to breathe into ex- 
istence such fruit. Recall to your mind its vivid 
color-descriptions and its symmetry. Think of 
the strain upon the fiber of the plant. Imagine 
the fertilizing power. Conceive of his imagina- 
tive power. Yet, Dante's was not without founda- 
tion, and it is an easy matter to see where he ob- 
tained much of his material. It is a biological 
fact that more plants or rather more flowers are 
fertilized by cross than by self fertilization. 

22 



Flowers. 

So we can pick out certain colors, verses that 
must have come from that other flower which we 
will call Virgil. Then in Canto thirty-third we 
find these words : 

''There very tveeping suffers not to weep. 
For at their eyes, grief, seehing passage, finds 
Impeachment, and rolling inward turns 
For increase of sharp anguish; the first tears 
Hang clustered, and like crystal vigors show. 
Under the socket hrimming all the cupf 

It is well known that people who are ofttimes 
the most grieved cannot shed tears. Did not 
Dante know this ? Birds, insects, winds, man and 
beasts are agents in carrying the pollen grains 
from one flower to another. Did not these help to 
fertilize the flower under consideration? But, 
alas, even his old age, which was spent in poverty, 
finds its parallel. For do not most plants, after 
they have produced their fruit, sink and die un- 
noticed ? 

This particular human plant died Sept. 14, 
1321, but, like every flower that brings forth its 
seed, Dante died to live. Not only more glori- 
ously in this present world, but I hope also in that 
New Jerusalem, where he will be brought to even 
greater perfection. The fallen petals from this 
flower repose in Ravenna, and they seem as precious 
as the rose leaves in our most costly rose jars. 
The seed from a certain plant lives for a short 
time, only as distinct types of that flowery so 
23 



Means. 

Dante's direct line of descent became extinct in 
1509. 

We have among the flora of the world a lens 
plant; like it, we may liken Dante nnto a mighty 
lens. "For whatever there was of piety, of phi- 
losophy, of poetry, of love of Nature, and of love 
of knowledge in those days was drawn to a focus 
in his writings." In the light of our comparison, 
then, who dare say that we are not the children 
of God and of Nature ! 

We are not only intimately but vitally bound up 
with nature. Her laws and the principles gov- 
erning her operations rule and control us. Love 
Nature and you will love her Maker. Emerson 
in speaking of "gifts" says: "Flowers are always 
fit presents because they remind us that a ray of 
beauty outvalues all the utilities of the world." 

Have we not all seen this exemplified in the 
case of the sick ! Have not flowers — a bouquet of 
roses or carnations perchance — spoken directly to 
you of a Father^s love ? These pure and untainted 
daughters of Nature are worthy of preaching be- 
cause so pure, and they become doubly significant 
when accompanied by a sainted person or a prayer. 
Alas, how often do we tarry and only send our 
messengers to speak to a cold, lifeless body! 
Would it not be better to lay the roses and lilies in 
compliment upon the caskets in which our friends 
now live, rather than upon the coffins in which 
their bodies shall lie when the crape hangs upon 
the door ! It has pleased some one to translate for 
us the language of flowers and their bodies. 

How surely he knew that vital subject who 
24 



Flowers. 

called the ivy friendship. Surely it takes an 
Emerson or a Black thus to speak. 

Almost all of our flowers have thus been trans- 
lated into our Anglo-Saxon tongue. 

I sometimes wonder if flowers do not converse 
one with another. They inter-marry, why not 
speak? "A Snap-Shot of Spring/' written by the 
author, can best speak at this point. 

Springtime is springtime because all animated 
matter seems to spring. After the glossy patent 
leather shoes of the streams and lakes have cracked 
and no longer add beauty to the snug and artistic 
costume of Mr. Winter, when the myriad crystals 
of dazzling brilliants composing his costume have 
been picked by the nimble fingers of the sunbeams, 
and his icicle-filled canes have met the lips of the 
joyous school boys, he takes his hat of St. Patrick's 
green and waves adieu, leaving only the aroma of 
his pines for the breezes to waft on as a menu to 
the world of sense. The menu is understood ; and 
almost simultaneously the eye sees the advanced 
guards, with their lanterns of gold. Thus the 
dandelion has fulfilled its mission, until it forms 
a white silk parasol for the vigilant ant. Every 
atom which contains life is at work. Even the 
vibrating air brings to us the melody from the red 
bird perched in yonder tree. How patiently he 
sits, trying to coax the blossoms from their downy 
bud chambers. 

Aroused, listening, yawning, the waxy curtain 

is drawn aside and, with all the beauty and pomp 

of a bride, the apple blossoms appear, blushing 

and reflecting in their cheeks of angelic white- 

25 



Means. 

ness the color of their serenader. Looking be- 
neath, one sees a carpet of delicate green, covered 
here and there with a rug of spring beauties. Oh ! 
where is the harpist with skill as great as the 
snowy pebbles which give forth the music on this 
joyous occasion? Closer observation reveals the 
fact that all Nature, from 

The grasshopper to the hopping toad 
That sits in yonder dusty road, 
Down to the insects of a thousand colors — 
Painted hy some unknown artist or other 

gives step. 

^t our feet we notice the tiny seedling, with 
its leaf-like hands extended, as if in prayer, thank- 
ing God for the message embodied in every rain- 
drop. What Muse has sung to us of the beauty 
and meaning encased and liquidized in every rain- 
drop? Is it that God liquidizes his messages for 
the seeds asleep in the ground? Add to all this 
the linguistic school of the flowers conversing 
with each other in the voice of perfume, teaching 
each other their individual tongues by means of 
the butterfly and lightning-winged humming bird 
which dips into every nectary of nectarian knowl- 
edge, and you will have springtime fairly begun. 

Flowers not only remind us that spring has 
come, but they speak to us of the arrival of many 
seasons. Divine service has always a greater in- 
fluence when we are listening to song and prayer, 
while our eyes are feasting upon a splendidly dec- 
orated cathedral. The revealed word is but one 

26 



Flowers, 

volume of God's revelation to us. Nature is 
His picture book. We are children m the 
love of Christ; and since the child, m intellect, 
can be taught by means of objects, so we m the 
realm of the Spirit of Power can best be educated 
bv having combined pressure of both volumes 
at the same time. Again, what would weddings be 
without flowers? Are they not the truest brides 
on earth? A woman without flowers, at this re- 
ception or that ball, is considered less refined 
than she who appears with them. You may call 
it custom. Well— more than that— it is a noble 
custom. It gives me great pleasure to see the 
maid as well as the older lady of fashion wear 
flowers in their bonnets. Indeed these precious 
souls seem to have felt that the dainty fingers 
of fair women would pluck them, and so they grew 
that they might wilt, and, therefore be useless for 
such decorations. I would that the birds, the 
jewels of the air, had been as thoughtful. 

A bouquet of dainty flowers and vines will 
make any dinner more palatable. Have you 
watched your feelings when some one puils a 
weed from among your flowers, as the same person 
destroys the plant or simply the flower growing 
next? What causes the diflerence m feeling? 
Do we let this same attitude creep over us when 
the mortals round us are snatched away by sonie 
unseen hand? Because we cannot see beauty is 
it a sign that it is absent? Perhaps it is our pre- 
rogative, since it was given us to have command 
over all things beneath us. 

With what concern we labor among our plants, 

27 



Means. 

endeavoring to bring them to physical beauty, 
while perhaps our neighbor, as to mortals, or even 
a brother or sister, is dying from the effects of 
sin. When will man learn to know God aright? 
He gave ns both, but one is not to have the ascen- 
dency over the other ; and especially not the lesser 
of the two kingdoms. It means much to lose a 
valuable plant; but it means the loss of heaven 
to lose one's soul. What color is the lily to which 
Christ referred? Many people will say, "white,'' 
but consult H. B. Green and he will say "red." 
This is but another illustration of the way in 
which we are wont to form judgments — circumstan- 
tial evident seems to rule the court'sdecision. Not 
only flowers, but men and women, have suffered 
from lack of knowledge in passing judgment. 
This gives us mme idea of the scope of our thoughts 
and of the degree of firmness with which they hold 
and rule us. It is difficult for us to judge cor- 
rectly. Some will prefer one plant, and some an- 
other, because the first bears a single large flower, 
while the second gives birth to dozens of dainty 
drops of dew. In the same way and for similar 
reasons, we are anxious to shower praises upon some 
one because he gives thousands of dollars for the 
building of a home for the aged or poor, while the 
one who, with less, but a heart full of Christian 
love, gives, as it were, her mite, which falls as the 
dew upon the parched lips of some fevered pa- 
tient, passes unnoticed. Oh, that we had the 
lens-like mind of God! 

Again, notice how a vine will reach forth its 
tendrils in search of something to which it can 
28 



Flowers. 

cling; and observe its choice as to what that sup- 
port shall be. 

The sensitive plant seems to have nerves, and, 
indeed, we dare not deny it. The pitcher plant, 
so choice in the selection of its food, is like unto 
the Venus fly trap — both are carnivorous. All 
this simply teaches us that the depths and mean- 
ing of nature have not yet reached solution. The 
best of mathematicians can give us Dothing more 
exact in construction of squares, triangles and 
hexagons, etc. — than can Nature. Ask yourself, 
To what is the color due? and then read concern- 
ing the various theories. Note how the blood, or 
perhaps you say sap, since the corpuscles are all 
white, courses through root, stem, and leaves. 
Watch with what care the tree, by the inherent 
law of its nature, seeks to heal over a wound in- 
flicted on its body. Do not all these considera- 
tions bring a multitude of questions to the very 
tip of your tongue? Search for the perfume 
gland. It is not always on the petal, but some- 
times in the corolla-like throat or even on the stem 
supporting it, as if to conceal from the impudent 
botanist the secret spring. He who does not see 
God in Nature is either insane or heartless. 

An artist may dip her brush and paint, but the 
lifelike touch is missing. The dew fails to ac- 
cumulate on the petals of her creation. The seed 
never ripens, and the perfume is never scattered 
by the invisible atomizer. 

Nevertheless, let the artist labor on. It broad- 
ens her soul just to know that she cannot. Let 
the sculptor continue to mold or rather to unfold, 
29 



Means. 

for it will likewise reveal to him the need of a 
Master teacher. The rainbow is the palette from 
which Nature obtains her colors. If this be true 
how much more true is it that Christ is the palette 
from which you and I are to secure those colors; 
and to be taught the use of the same, to paint our 
truest and best likeness in Him. 



30 



Light 



CHAPTER III. 

LIGHT. 

Light has had its embryo state as well as man. 
The primitive stage of light, however, was be- 
cause of the condition of men. Is it possible 
that the full splendor of artificial light was taken 
from man's store of knowledge at the sinning of 
our parents, when concern for the future crept 
again into the hearts of the children of men? 
Is it possible that a means of lighting that future 
spontaneously crept into existence? 

Perhaps the flint, tallow-dip, oil lamp, gas 
and electric light stages of light only represent 
to us our loss of time and opportunity. We might 
have had the last at first had not our first parents 
snuffed the flame given them by divine right. 

As it is we can glance back and note the degree 
of light as it existed in men during the ages. 
Then, too, we can easily detect the parallel ad- 
vance made by man as he was accompanied and 
tutored by light. Thus light has come to be 
a Means. How strange is the contrast between 
light and darkness ! We are supposed to have 
lived in the light during the past, but as we now 
recall the past it was darkness. 

The glory of the present hour will be the 

31 



Means. 

shadow of the future light, just as the light of 
yesterday has become the shadow of the brilliancy 
of to-day. With light comes life and opportunity. 
How could our ancestors have lived as we do, we 
having a brighter light? It is not strange, when 
we are reminded of the part played by light, that 
the people of old were wont to worship the sun. 
Surely they felt within themselves a desire for 
light and their greatest source was that of Helios. 
To us the sun is simply the orb of light, around 
which our earth not only revolves, but upon 
which its very existence depends. If, then, the 
men of primitive intellect worshipped the only 
source of terrestrial life, surely since they have 
bequeathed to us so great a blessing, we should 
remember the Golden Eule, and will to our pos- 
terity a well-defined knowledge of the true source 
of spiritual light and life. How silently and yet 
how completely do the little messengers of light 
drive the fairies of darkness into places of safety 
and retreat! We do not hear the tread of feet 
or the shouts of command, but only the lookers- 
on remind us that the conflict is at hand. Pres- 
ently we find the dark-robed fairies of the night 
crouched under bushes, behind pictures, in cellars 
and caves. There they are pleased to wait until 
the captain of the Sun's hosts reclines for a nap. 
The Captain of our Salvation never reclines, but, 
nevertheless, the fairies of darkness in our hearts 
come forth and sometimes endeavor to conquer the 
greater power. The latter conflict is not without 
strife. The war between the forces with which 
men are so closely connected is much more vital 
32 



Light. 

and significant than the mere force of plant life. 
We have all seen the vegetable as it commenced to 
grow in the dark. The bulb or tuber has withm 
itself all the elements of growth; the moisture, 
heat and light are but aids. Yet how true are 
those aids. Man at one time had lurkmg withm 
himself all the conditions of spiritual growth, 
but thev were lost and had to be regained. The 
plant that grows in the dark is etiolated, yet it 
grows. Place this plant in the sunlight and watch 
the transformation. See how the chlorophyl 
granules are manufactured and distributed 
throughout the plant. The stomata and water 
pores now function perfectly and we are pleased 
to style the vegetating plant healthy. Thus it 
was the light that caused health. Every plant 
contains within itself light, but the light is its 
life and can only be used to collect more hght, 
consequently more life. A plant, as well as our 
bodies, is condensed light. Our bodies are simply 
plants cultivated for their fruit, the spirit. The 
flower is the soul of the plant. Let us see. The 
plant grows by an inherent law, but that law 
demands light, among other things. If the plant 
die touch it with light, and it becomes light, 
save the small amount of glue and nails with 
which the light was held. We feed upon the vege- 
table, animal and mineral kingdoms, all of which 
are the products of light. Thus we can be re- 
duced to a condensed mass of light. 

Light can be held; all that we lack is that 
substance which can withstand the heat. 
Heat is not only characteristic of the light of 
33 



Means. 

the sun, but we can easily detect the glow in the 
man lighted by the Christ Man. Take one who 
is cold and indifferent toward Christianity, who 
displays no activity in the realm of saints. Touch 
such an one with a coal from the altar of heaven, 
and you will find that in him are the oil and the 
wick of the flame of love. 

To show the warmth of the flame, let us take 
a glance at the life of George Muller, of Bristol. 
Perhaps we would better look at the George 
Muller of Heimersleben, if we would see him be- 
fore the wick was light. How cold, and indif- 
ferent — ^yea, even wicked and despisable he was, 
but after the Wagner prayer meeting he was 
changed to a man in whom the flame began to 
make heat. Heat causes expansion — because, as 
we have said, it is condensed light. So when the 
heat from the Christian flame began to play in 
him, he, too, began to expand, because he could not 
prevent it. There is no substance which can with- 
stand or contain the heat from Christ. Here is 
the difference. George Muller began at once to 
expand, and with that expansion came light, so 
that to-day, though the original flame has died, 
there remain a multitude of flames bearing light 
and heat in every part of the world. The two 
thousand for whom he cared are the living lights 
of to-day. They are the Means. Then, too, his 
life story, written by Dr. Pierson, is another light 
placed upon a hill. I would rather, yea, a thou- 
sand times rather, have my own immortal flame 
extinguished by the very darkness of hell than to 
have it known at the mercy seat of God that the 
34 



Light. 

waves of sin generated by me caused another flame 
to flicker. Darkness, which is negative, is com- 
parable to sadness. Although darkness brought our 
woe into existence, we can use it just as the Mas- 
ter uses sadness, to ripen those fruits which are 
not mellowed by the sun and its companion cheer- 
fulness. 

We rest during the dark hours of the night ; we 
build up, or rather we are built up by the very 
forces which darkness calls into action — once to 
deteriorate, again to elevate. This is proof posi- 
tive that sin is sin's vital enemy. God separated 
the light from the dark. He made each for a spe- 
cial purpose, and they must so be used by us. 
Darkness contains some light. Since the sun first 
lighted the earth there has never been total dark- 
ness. Light is light, but there are degrees of in- 
tensity. The intense light of the sun is for a 
purpose, and likewise the filtered light of the 
forest. Oaks cannot grow to perfection in caves, 
neither can ferns and mosses reach their ideal in 
the burning heat of unmolested sun rays. It is 
a peculiar fact, but nevertheless true, that the light 
of Christ is often too powerful for the young and 
tender shoot. A young man can be raised in a 
Christian home and yet not be a Christian, but 
let such an one come under an influence less in- 
tense, and he will in most instances begin to grow, 
until finally he is able to bask in the full splendor 
of a healthy Christian influence. Such an one is 
but a fern that must be permitted to sleep in the 
sifted light, as it gently falls through the leaves 
of trees. He must recline on moss-covered couches 

3^ 



Means. 

until he gains strength enough to enter the fiery 
furnace and be untouched. All birds were not 
made to soar in the direct path of the heavenly 
diamond. Their eyes cannot stand the glitter. 

The eagle seems to defy the bold, audacious look 
of old Helios, while the delicate humming bird 
darts here and there as if to flee from his pene- 
trating gaze. It is not always he who seems even 
to revel in the splendor and sublimity of Christian 
loveliness that is clothed with the brightest plum- 
age of Christ-like perfection, and beauty; for 
very often do we find the dazzling colors of fine 
art, and the tints and hues of the dawn in the 
garment of some poor unknown Christian mother 
alone with her God and His Word. God made 
each one of us with an organ of sight, adapted 
to the various degrees of light and to the power of 
discrimination. We look at yonder flower garden 
and feast our poor souls by means of the avenue of 
sight. The eye is the most delicate, most sen- 
sitive, part of the human structure. Why did God 
in His all-perfect vision see fit to so equip us? 
Surely there was a purpose. 

Not onl}^ are human eyes sensitive to the various 
colors, but even those of the birds and insects; 
but if we, like the fish in caves, do not use our 
eyes, they will in time become negative. How 
awful it seems to us, as we look at another whose 
eyes are closed to the beauties of this world! 
Think of those great historic souls — eyeless — yet 
they lived, not only unto their own day and gen- 
eration, but also for the generations to come. If, 
then, Sadness touches our hearts with her trem- 
36 



Age. 

must take things in their natural order. It is 
said that each life represents at different stages 
in its development every form of evolutionary life. 
This is true not only in the physiological sense, 
but in the religious realm. We need but recall 
Paul, when we are soon reminded of Saul, but 
is this state of affairs to continue forever? I dare 
conjecture that in a thousand years from to-day, 
there will remain no traces of gill slits in the de- 
veloping human embryo. 

Certain laws exist to-day because the conditions 
demand them, but remove the conditions and the 
laws will be dried up in the splendor of new 

We need not look for a Saul in every young 
man before we find a Paul. If the young people 
of to-day having reached their twentieth dawn 
of spring do not think and act as the youth of 
twenty-five or thirty, years ago, I say unto you that 
something is wrong. We dare not blame God. 
We must look at ourselves. Do we use all the 
Means at our command for the upbuilding of 
noble Christian characters? The farmers of to- 
day do not buy wild oats and cultivate them for 
seed, but, on the contrary, they see to it that the 
seed is of the finest quality. It is a favorite theory 
of mine that no young man should associate with 
one of his own age. This may sound strange and 
perhaps frighten some, but when you learn its 
meaning the discord will be harmony. 

We should not permit the child to associate with 
himself because he is his equal in age. The best 
companion for any young man is Christ. But 
53 



Means. 

some will say he needs an earthly compaiuon. 
This is partly true, but when you select tliat 
companion be sure that he is older, not only in 
years but in truth. It cannot be denied, for 
who can gainsay it, that God selects youths and 
even causes children to be born whom he wishes 
to use for special purposes. We dare not judge 
their development and compare it with others. 
Take the young man, for instance, who has been 
chosen by God for a special work. The ordinary 
temptations will never tempt him. He can and 
will resist the evil enticements that cause his 
brother to fall. This, some one may say, is not 
right. When, I ask, have you assumed God^s 
prerogative? Such a one will have a mist over 
his life. He will do good and work along the 
lines of righteousness before he is really conscious 
of the fact. At times the veil will be raised, 
and the child will look about for a time to get his 
bearings. After these few seconds or perhaps 
days, as God may deem best, the shadow is again 
thrown upon the chosen one and he is again at 
work. 

This special training may last through life and 
the garment always be worn, but history reveals 
some cases where the latter years have been those 
of the unveiling of the monument of God's love, 
and then, and then only, does such an one realize 
for the first time, what has been accomplished 
by means of him in the eyes of a mortal. Parents 
must select the means unless the child is under 
the direct influence of God, for in that case it 
would be the grossest of sins. Earnestness need 
54 



Age. 

not be the index to silvery cords, in this dispensa- 
tion of the Spirit and of means, but, alas, it may be 
the waxen plate in the youth susceptible to the im- 
pressions of the Spirit. Age counts for much 
and is a wonderful means, but we must not limit 
power to age. Have we not had in history in- 
stances of the greatest heroism in the young. 
France has furnished — but I refrain from naming 
her. Look also to Italy and our own fair America. 
It is not in age or culture or wealth or power or 
might that great feats are accomplished, but in 
laying hold of the Means given to us and using 
them. 

We ascertain the age of the oak by counting 
the number of annual rings. I wonder how old 
we would be if our age was to be based upon the 
number of annual rings of growth in any one of 
our threefold natures. The oak must either grow 
or die. 

The means for growth are given and if, by any 
other means, they are cut off, decay is the result. 
Likewise with the mortal. It is true that age, of 
its own sweet will, adds knowledge to the indi- 
vidual by sheer means of age, and yet I think 
this is but the result of contact. We can note 
the lack of development even with advancing age, 
when those avenues are closed by means of which 
the mind is to be tutored. The means for ac- 
complishing great and wonderful feats are not 
always suspected, neither are the means always 
respected. Thoreau, in his "Walden," writes thus: 
"The myriads who built the pyramids to be the 
tombs of the Pharoahs were fed on garlic, and 

55 



Means. 

it may be were not decently buried themselves. 
The mason who finishes the cornice of the palace 
returns at night perchance to a hut not so good as 
a wigwam." 

This reminds us that means are of various 
grades and degrees of importance. The builders 
of the tombs were more important than the ma- 
terial out of which the pyramids were built ; but it 
seems to me the designer back of it all was the 
greatest means. We read in the literature of the 
world, *^Lives of great men all remind us we can 
make our lives sublime." I wonder of what the 
lives of the less noble and courageous remind us? 
Do not the lives of the noble youth remind us of 
things just as sublime as the feats of older per- 
sons in times past ? There remain some questions 
unanswered. Notwithstanding that Nature is old, 
she does not appear so. Even in these advanced 
years of her life she delights to dress in gay 
colors. Tints the most delicate and refined are 
hers. She still bears that supreme dignity so 
characteristic of her mountains; while modula- 
tions of her voice vary from the softest whisper 
of the child to the commanding tones of the 
captain. She still has her sorrows and her days 
of joy, but yet she is full of glee. Nature does 
not grow old nor weary. Then why should we, 
if we are her children? She, our mother, surely 
will give unto us those principles by means of 
which we can retain our youthful vigor even to 
the grave. We must not divorce ourselves from 
her, but by clinging to her breast we shall be- 
come the children of natural and unpainted beauty. 

56 



Age. 

If Nature were to be placed before the throne of 
grace and judged, surely she could not be con- 
demned for riotous living. Neither would she 
be asked to give an account of each year's work. 
We shall not be judged by our age, but by our 
faith. Age counts for much, but chiefly as a 
means of showing an appreciation and a mani- 
festation of our faith. We need not look to the 
evening of old age for the delightful sunsets, for 
we have just as noble sunsets earlier in life, though 
they may not be behind mountains white with 
the snowy locks of time. Not long since a new- 
born butterfly rested at my feet and this message 
flowed from my pen: 

It was a bright June morning, 
Cottomvood bloom filled the air. 
As sentinels placed here and there. 



At my feet rested a butterfly. 

Whose wings momentarily did expand. 

Revealing colors splendid, beauteous, grand. 



An infant in the use of wings was it. 
Being lately born into the world of flight. 
With a clear vision and delicately light. 



An -unsuspecting but vigilant and — 

Crawled upon the wings so gay, 

Jn search of food or in search of play, 

57 



Means. 

Our "butterfly was seized with inspiration. 

High in the air it swiftly flew, 

Until the tiny ant with cold was blue. 

Closely crouched in the down-like feathers. 

The two journeyed on and on — 

E'en through the mist of another dawn. 

Whether the aeronaut fell from his ship. 

Or waited until it rested there — 

On some thistledown so fair, I cannot say. 

But all this is rightly likened 
Unto men — who all unsought 
Are carried aivay on the wings of new-born 
thought. 

Men as ants thus high do sail 

In 7iew and unexplored realms of life, 

Proving theories fancies by mental strife. 

Until at last they, too, must rest. 
Look and examine their former selves. 
As seen on thought-bound shelves. 



58 



Music. 



CHAPTER VI. 

MUSIC. 

Man" from remote antiquity has had enough 
genius to constitute some device by means of which 
he could sing out the harmony of his nature. 
It is one of the most interesting studies to investi- 
gate the development of both vocal and instru- 
mental music. "The Hebrews were an eminently 
musical people. These people claim no origi- 
nality, but attribute the origin of musical instru- 
ments to the antediluvian days of Jubal, who 
was the father of all such as handle the harp and 
the organ.^' 

As we walk back through the centuries, we find 
traces of music, yet crude as compared with that 
of to-day. The music of Old Testament times 
is far inferior to that of our time, and yet the 
literature of the Old Testament is such as to 
excite our wonder and admiration. Thus we are 
forced to recognize a strange contrast. 

The music of antiquity was as unpolished as its 
people. Their music, evidently, was not the 
source of such pronounced inspiration as the say- 
ings of the Old Testament. We must look for 
another cause for the development and perfection 
of music. 

59 



Means. 

All may not accept the fundamental principle 
by means of which we shall endeavor to show 
the development of music. 

We must admit that there has been advance. 
That it has been evolved from a crude and uncul- 
tured state to one of perfection. The Chinese 
make use of music in their most dignified cere- 
monies, without genius enough to advance it, even 
if their sumptuary laws would permit. "The 
Hindu writers have names corresponding to ours 
for the tonic or first, the mediant or third, and 
the dominant or fifth of the scale; and indeed 
there are multitudinous proofs of their assiduous 
study of the art, however limited their practical 
skill, owing to the paucity and imperfection of 
their musical instruments." In all countries we 
might show the crude beginnings, but this is not 
necessary. The Romans copied their art from the 
Greek. The ancient Hebrew music, some say, was 
Egyptian in less polished form. Look where we 
will, we find music, but in all our searching we 
fail to find a Haydn, Beethoven, Schumann, 
Wagner, or Mozart, in the stream of composers. 
Neither do we find a Patti, Lind, Grisi, Alboni, 
Braham, Antognini, Mario or Roneoni in the 
sphere of song. 

This marvelous advance must have a cause, 
and that cause lies in the theory of evolution. 

Men have emerged from brute life and life of 
war into spiritual life and that of peace and arbi- 
tration. So, too, we have, as a people, come to 
realize the worth and meaning in music. The 
masterpieces of music in both lines existed before 
60 



Music. 

we knew it and before we appreciated them. 

Men have not dreamed out the value of music 
and then set about to write it. Ah! no. It has 
come as the morning breeze, and we have been 
refreshed. This, again, is a proof of its evolu- 
tion. Even the great compositions of to-day are 
tinted with this principle. One composer is in- 
spired with song as he listens to the winds. His 
soul has through the ages been made sensitive and 
now the conditions are fruitful. 

Masterful compositions are evolved in one na- 
ture as we are evolved through nature. The 
musical ability of one man may have had its evo- 
lutionary seed sown a thousand generations to- 
ward the East. We may wonder whence came 
the first seed. Our only rational response is, God 
had an ideal. This ideal he set developing through 
the countless ages of physical and animal evo- 
lution, until it met the impulse of the breath of 
God and partook of a deeper melody at the in- 
breathing of the Immortal Soul. Wild nature 
of to-day has not lost her musical charm. The 
streams play just as sweetly to-day as of old, or 
even more so, in comparison to the busy world. 
The birds have not been caught by man and taught 
to sing; on the contrary, these jewels of the air 
are man's instructors at this very hour. Examine, 
if you will, the human throat ; compare it with the 
forms of animal creation before us, and you will 
not find a very striking contrast. Here is where 
activity -not only determines structure, but beauty 
and meaning of structure. Then, if we can find 
real traces of prototypes of music in the realms 
6i 



Means. 

below us, and if we can trace its development 
through the countless ages, and even note its 
advance during our own lifetime, then, surely, we 
will attribute rationality to ourselves by saying. 
Evolution accounts for it all. 

The best proof we have for ascribing intelli- 
gence in this world of ours is that we find purpose 
in all the operations of nature. Purpose, end, 
and rationality are synonymous. We must now 
seek to find the purpose in music. Surely our 
Father would not cause the physical apparatus to 
be developed if it were not for some purpose. 
Every part of our physical body has its special 
function, and surely that part so near the heart 
and soul will not fail in its duty. 

We are told that in the private as well as in 
the religious life of the Hebrews music held a 
prominent place. Likewise we find that it played 
a very mysterious part in driving out the evil 
spirit from Saul. Again it was intimately, and, 
we dare add, vitally, connected with prophecy, 
but in times past, just as in the days at our 
threshold, we find that the cords as well as the 
hands and feet were put to improper uses. 

Nero fiddled when Eome was in flames. Isaiah 
pronounces a woe against those who sat till the 
morning twilight over their wine, to the sound 
of "the harp and viol, the tabret and pipe.'' 

Music has always occupied a prominent place 
in religious worship. We are delighted, in the 
present day, to listen to the harmony of several 
hundred musical instruments played by masters. 
What must have been the inspiration which came 

62 



Music. 

to the people of old, when, with their correspond- 
ing culture, they listened to the four thousand, 
out of the thirty thousand composing the tribe 
in the reign of David, who are said to have been 
appointed to praise Jehovah with the instruments 
which David made. 

You say our present orchestras charm you, lift 
you out of earth and place you gently in sweetest 
bliss. What must have been the intoxicating rap- 
ture, combined with ecstatic joy, of those who 
listened to two hundred thousand trumpets 
blended in harmony with forty thousand harps, 
tinted here and there with the light and the dark 
shades of thousands of human voices! Surely 
we are not basking in the fullest splendor of 
spiritual sunshine and heavenly worship. 

Music hath not only charms to soothe the savage 
breast, but she hath forgiveness for the sinner. 

We can find still another cause for the evolu- 
tion of music. It is in this : The strings of man's 
throat needed tightening, the keyboard of his 
violin-like breast needed to be seasoned, not only 
by time and contact with man and angels, but 
by inspiration from God, while the eye must re- 
veal the soul to the world, which is woven with 
finer fibers than ever before. So, when all things 
were conducive, music, the art of trembling vi- 
brations, sprang spontaneously upon the uncul- 
tured heart of society and trained it by sub- 
duing and overawing it. Where would be the 
world, in its onward march to-day if we could 
abstract the part played by music? 

Surely we must tread with lighter steps than 

63 



Means. 

ever before, not only in the dance, but in religious 
worship. Listen to the music falling from the 
keys of a chapel organ, played by a spiritually 
minded master ; gossamer-like light steals through 
the deeply stained windows; perfume of the lily 
fills the air ; the congregation sits in ecstacy. The 
cathedral is buried in the shade of oaks, but still 
they have a clearer vision of heaven than if they 
were in the presence of the full orbed splendor 
of the sun. 

Music, thou art a divine given key 

Lent to unlock for you and for me 

The door which permits us to enter the street. 

Where God and Christ and man do meet. 

The most awe-inspiring assemblage of people 
of which the writer was ever permitted to form 
a part was that of the funeral of a physician. It 
was held in one of the most splendid university 
chapels of America. 

The vast auditorium, seating three thousand 
people, was filled with thinking and feeling 
mortals. Presently Chopin's "Funeral March" 
lived again. With the smallest vibration of the air, 
scarcely heard, the organ responded to the mas- 
ter touch. The massive doors swung back: two 
soldiers in uniform led, in perfect step, the funeral 
procession. As the organ notes found their way 
through the forest of palms they met and kissed 
the notes of him who said, in accents clear and 
startling: "I am the Kesurrection and the Life; 
he that believeth on me, though he be dead, yet 

64 



Music. 

shall he live again." The coffin was placed before 
the altar, the services proceeded. In what did 
the grandeur culminate? Music unlocked the 
hearts and threw the key away. Music hath spe- 
cial times and places of enchantment. Who has 
not had every fiber of his being melted and re- 
woven into a texture resembling silk, by the 
strains which fell from a guitar, while softly and 
tenderly gliding over rippling, moonlit waters? 
Then, too, the serenade hath special soothing 
power; and why? Moisture, which takes posses- 
sion of the air in the absence of the sprightly 
nymphs of the sun, is favorable and becomes a 
good conductor; while darkness closes the avenue 
of sight and gives the ear full control. Here, as 
in prayer, the closing of the eye enables the eye 
of the soul to see God. If you would not lose the 
charm of the serenade, then do not frighten the 
messengers away by means of light. Silence, 
supreme midnight stillness, is the serenader's. 

It is a fact of some importance and significance 
that many of our best musicians come from homes 
of poverty. This illustrates that passage in 
Colossians which reads: "And there is no re- 
spect of persons." Thousands of voices, which 
might have been the means of melting this world 
of ours into Christian loveliness, have died un- 
known and unheard. Will the Master say: "You 
have not played your part?" 

Oh! that men would pour out their wealth as 
readily and as earnestly for the building of schools 
in which the musically gifted could secure proper 
culture. Would not this kind of giving be ^n 

65 



Means. 

antiseptic to the almshouses and penitentiaries? 
Why wait until the soul is lost? Use the means 
which God has provided. Eeach the souls of men 
by means of the music which lies sleeping in un- 
covered breasts. Then, too, this latent musical 
talent evens up the wealth of the world, for, by 
strenuous endeavor, it can be turned into wealth. 
He who feels the god of music knocking at the 
door of his soul and does not permit it to enter 
is just as great a culprit as one who openly com- 
mits crime. The minister of the gospel has no 
better calling than the teacher of voice or brush 
who aids to move the world to God. We may 
say that the hero of the twentieth century is he 
who shall provide a perfect and complete musical 
education for those who otherwise could not se- 
cure it. Why not send a soloist of great repute 
to China and to India ? Let them preach. Could 
not the gospel be just as affective there by means 
of the voice as in America ? 

Martial music has done as much to bring vic- 
tory to retreating hosts as the commanding pres- 
ence of a noble general. And why? 

The general's presence, personality, and influ- 
ence, may reach the head and persuade, or may 
even reach the heart, but that is all ; while music, 
that art of arts, dips its finger even into the realm 
of ideal feeling, and carries the wounded soldier 
back to home, country, and all. It strengthens 
him until danger becomes a negative factor, and 
with a firmer, more rhythmical step, he is inspired 
to cross the impassable. It is reported that a 
certain army, basking in the splendor of Alpine 

LofC. ^^ 



Music. 

heights, was on the verge, not of a precipice, 
but of retreating, when the command came for the 
bands to lead the host, and ere they were aware, 
they had crossed what they supposed to be an im- 
passable pass and had crowned the engagement 
with victory. 

Thus music can give praise where shame might 
have been. Music not only thus strengthens and 
energizes, but, under strange, impassioned con- 
ditions, it acts as a safety valve. Angel hosts 
express their heavenly joy by means of song. 
Mortal man, under the intoxicating influence of a 
patriotic or religious victory, expresses himself 
by means of song. Tears bear a strange relation- 
ship to music. They are very often liquidized 
pain, but have you not seen a mother, under* the 
weight of excessive joy, shed tears, not so much 
of pain as of thankfulness? Ah! these are vital. 
Music, tears, prayer, are three means of grace, and 
avenues of escape for our waiting souls. 

These are the three graces for which we cannot 
give very cogent reasons, but which are neverthe- 
less the foundations of our ideal life, God be 
praised. He is the giver and perfecter of it all, 
while Christ is the tuning fork. 

Has the strange parallelism between great re- 
form movements and music ever appealed to you ? 
It may be but a coincidence, but a mighty one. 
Luther, that tower of faith, power and music 
builded on Christ, poured forth his soul in music 
which still fires the souls of men. Wesley, like- 
wise, was bathed by God in the sea of music. We 
are all anxiously trying to prove the validity of 

67 



Means. 

our arguments m the realm of morals or religion, 
by quoting from the works of a non-religious or 
non-moral source. This may add charm, and we 
strengthen our chapter by quoting Shakespeare on 
music. He says: 

^'The man that hath no music in himself. 
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds. 
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils; 
The motions of his spirit are dull as night. 
And his affections dark as Erehus: 
Let no such man he trusted/* 

We may softly walk through the wards of a 
hospital filled with cots so white that one imagines 
a snowstorm has just passed by, while the sick 
and wounded are victims lying beneath the mighty 
flakes. We pause; the enormous mass of air, 
fifteen pounds to the square inch, is disturbed; 
it trembles ; hark ! a voice, almost divine, steals 
through space. The movement is not confined 
to the medium, for beneath those strange flakes 
of snowlike whiteness mortal men forget their 
pain and listen to the whispers of God. Could 
such a one under such a spell be taken home, ah, 
that home would be heaven! Consequently we 
must admit that music can do what the physician 
cannot. 

It is not necessary, however, to search for man 
under the weight of sickness to find the power 
of music. We look at him engaged in any of the 
busy pursuits of life. If he be at work, the work 
ceases when the man with the hand organ and 
68 



Music. 

monkey passes that way. Likewise even the small 
boy with his rattle-bones solicits your attention. 
Then let us never venture to move the volume of 
flexible air with harsh words or sounds, but leave 
it ever to the musically iiiclined to call us all 
back to God. 



6f 



Means. 



CHAPTER VII. 

IDEALS. 

Ideals are those seen yet unseen, those known 
yet unknown possibilities, for the realization of 
which men are willing to sacrifice body, mind 
and spirit. "Where your treasure is, there will 
your heart be also." 

Not long since, as a supplement to one of our 
leading magazines, came the picture of an aged 
negro and wife who were counting their few 
pennies by means of the light that came from an 
old candle which was supported by a bottle. A 
look of surprise came over their faces as they 
discovered they were one penny short. It had 
slipped away and they knew not how. I dare con- 
jecture that not one person in every one thou- 
sand knows where the real treasure of his heart 
lies. We think we do. Yet could we see as God 
sees, I am certain we would be surprised at our 
ideal, the real ideal, the truest and best treasure 
of our hearts. Our true ideal will be the one 
realized, while the one we thought to be our real 
treasure will be, on that counting day, when we 
have — not the light of a candle, but of Christ — 
the "penny short." When we set out in life to 
accomplish a certain task, the most of us are not 
70 



Ideals. 

like the wise man who, when contemplating build- 
ing a house, knew the cost, but are more like the 
foolish man who thought not of the price. 

We, in early youth, are charmed with the work 
of a certain individual. We determine to make 
our lives the complement of his, and to add just 
a little to the great stream of which the principle 
for which he labored was but a tributary. While 
in childhood all things seem possible, and indeed 
are, for it is the youth who is near God, it is he 
who relies upon Him and with child-like faith 
builds for time and eternity. I would that the 
young of the future would never grow weary of 
this, for in it they are true and right in the eyes 
of God. Let us instruct our youth; let us teach 
them something of the difficulty of attempting 
anything outside of Christ. An ideal may be 
right in its end. If so, the life of the idealist will 
correspond; for in the history of every man, the 
meaning of his life is not consciously placed 
there, but in that he works out his ideal, he is 
working out his life. Many men have been lost, 
because of their ideal for life. If we could only 
know the ideal or the purpose which actuates men, 
we could easily determine the result. It is only 
when we see the lives of men through the micro- 
scope of a hundred years that they seem as candles, 
burned during the darkness of night, but which 
reveal in the brighter sunlight of a completed 
knowledge only one-half of their original splendor. 
How splendid it is for us of the present age to 
comprehend that we are the realized ideals of the 
hopeful, of past days ! How the earlv Christians 

71 



Means. 

must have longed for the day when they conld 
worship without punishment! Yet they were in- 
spired, they had ideals, as the various histories of 
art teach us. While they could not speak of those 
things near and dear to their hearts, yet they 
could picture them and thus look, read, and re- 
joice. There must have lurked in their hearts an 
ideal plan of worship — free, unimpeded and spir- 
itual. 

They projected into the future. They kept 
alive the few sparks, so that when'^all things were 
conducive they might ignite the flamable hearts of 
men, and then would their ideal scheme of wor- 
ship be realized. We to-day are the ideals re- 
alized. May we live in respect and love for these 
people. Let us show to their holy spirits that we 
appreciate the work done for us — and by so doing 
we shall be better able to form ideals to be realized 
by the generations of the future. Then will our 
posterity bless us. 

We do not always know the exact meaning of 
our ideal until we see it encased in material form. 
The plan of a church or bridge may lurk in the 
mind of an architect for months, even be there 
completed before he places on paper a single dot 
regarding it. He sees it in his mind constantly, 
and especially so when he has drafted his plans. 
Even the drafted plans are to me unintelligible. 
The completed structure, the ideal caught in 
the mass of wood, stone, iron and glass, alone 
reveals to me his ideal. So it is with the many of 
our ideals. We think that we are perfectly fa- 
milial mth every detail; but alas! not so; for 

72 



IdeaU. 

when the work begins the difficulties are manifold. 
We need ages of preparation. Indeed we have been 
schooled for six thousand years, and are still only 
infants. Ideals have been born and have died ; they 
have left the mind either better able to construct 
in the future, or weaker and less liable to build 
riffhtly. One thing is certain, we of the twentieth 
century should have grander and better ideals, 
with greater and firmer means of realizing them 
than were ever possessed by the people of days 
gone by. The world should be richer to-day than 
it was yesterday. The aspect of the world 
changes. When we open our eyes to-morrow, if 
we could rightly view the landscape o'er, we should 
feel and see eternity. The future is what we make 

it. . , . 

The future of every man's life is m his own 
hands. We are free moral agents. If, then, we 
should determine to present a stage filled with 
the horrors of carnage and the like, who could 
prevent? We are the architects of our own fate. 

It is almost beyond estimation to reckon the 
value for good of a single ideal which finds lodg- 
ment in the breast of a man and is cultivated by 
that individual. Sculptors are idealists. 
Painters also. We, each of us, are artists. God 
is the Supreme Artist. I sometimes think (I 
known it is fancy), that God could, if he so 
chose, have one large camera, and with it take 
snapshots of this old world of ours every second 
of time. We as artists would then be revealed m 
our full light. What pictures some of us would 
present ! At times beautiful, again we would ex- 
73 



Means. 

hibit a negative sublimity. We should be counted 
impersonators, but we should be representing our 
best natures. 

Have you ever seen an ideal person? Look at 
Christ. He is the mirror in which we see the de- 
fects of our own lives. When every knee shall 
bow and every tongue confess, will there be any 
one whom we can call an "ideal ?' History tells 
of men and women who have reached the height 
of fame in this direction and in that. 

The next generation points out to us the de- 
fects in the life past. If we could find a person 
with a perfect love of God actuating every mo- 
tive, with physical beauty at one hundred per cent., 
gifted with all graces and talents, we might stop 
and look. But as the world is to-day we find few, 
if any. In that we have our ideals for bodily 
refinement and grace, for culture and soul cleans- 
ing, there is proof for us that there is something 
in the future, and that the golden age in our 
ideal world is still before us. We may not realize 
this, for we have the idea of a heaven — a place of 
refuge to which we can all go and have shown us 
just what we have accomplished for the Master. 

What the future has in store for us we do not 
know, but we shall when we see Him, as we shall 
be like Him, and shall see Him as He is. There 
is a way of judging the ideals of men which would 
be of special merit to the sociologist, if he wished 
to spend a moment's time in gathering material. 
Look at the styles of pictures in the journals, 
Sunday papers and magazines, as well as in the 
photographers' show-cases. See the hidden ideals 
74 



Ideals. 

in the subjects. This attitude or that reveals 
to the scrutinizing observer the actuating or domi- 
nant motive. Classes and groups can thus be 
gathered, and people can be divided accordingly. 
This mode of separation will be a new yet true 
one. 

We are not always conscious of the ideal in 
another when we pass criticisms. Indeed, who 
are we that we should judge another ? Let a per- 
son weigh the actions of his fellows, before tell- 
ing the world that the weight is short. , 

Perhaps our own scales are not the very best. 
We should borrow from our neighbor. But who 
is my neighbor? Who of my neighbors has scales 
any better than my own ? Would it not be wisest 
to measure all with the scales Christ gives us? 
"Do unto others as you would that they should 
do unto you.^' He who permits an ideal flame 
to lap up the grossness of all smoldering fires is 
he who stands for nobleness. 

We speak of an ideal day, an ideal book, and if 
we be asked to define "ideal" we cannot do it. 
Two explanations can be offered : First, it is possi- 
ble that we but quote, and in so doing exhibit 
to the world something of our progenitors' natare. 
Or, again, we may be giving utterance to a some- 
thing within ourselves, of which we are not fully 
conscious, and which is, without doubt, our truest 
and best nature. In this sense, are we making 
progress ?j 

THE END. 



75 



JAN 5 1901 



Jan - 2^ 1901 



'Mj 



JAN 5 1901 



